Debut [Dated to Jan 5th]

[sixthhandlion]

"I have seen your dreams, Ronald Weasley, and I have seen your fears. All that you desire is possible, but all that you dread is also possible..."He was chilled to the bone, hair still wet from the pond and plastered to his forehead, still dripping in his face from where it hadn't had a chance to properly dry yet. He'd started shaking without

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[honestlyrubbish]

Harry's actions over the past couple of weeks hadn't been very hard to read. It was always Harry, after all, who would try to cheer up the lot of them, who could keep his chin high in the most impossible of circumstances. He didn't worry in the same way that Hermione did, poring over endless texts and trying to reason out everything she saw. He didn't feel desolation as strongly as Ron did, suddenly far from a family who had always been close, who loved one another and held on as tightly as they could. What changed over the various attempts was the ease with which Hermione was now able to fall into a lighter state of mind, was able to read Harry's subtle signs and allow all concern to seep away from her mind for a time. Months ago, it had felt like moving joints which had remained locked for years, creaking, aching, every muscle forced and carefully molded into a smile.

But as much as Hermione still held onto the belief that the island was not as safe as everyone thought, and that all of them still desperately needed to find a way home, the lack of war looming over their necks was like lifting a fog. Only a few minutes passed before Hermione was laughing brightly as she scampered down the path, although she fell silent as she noticed Harry pausing in the open area. Brow furrowing and anxiety quickly taking over, Hermione came up by Harry's side, reaching for his hand, not having been close enough to hear that crucial name on her best friend's lips.

"Harry?" she asked, cheeks pink with cold and exertion. "What's wrong?" Her head turned to follow Harry's gaze, uncomprehending for all of a second before her breath came to a screeching halt in her throat. Eyes immediately starting to burn, name dropping from her lips barely above a whisper.

"Ron."

[sixthhandlion]

He spotted Harry first, walking through the trees laughing, as if they hadn't just accomplished something extremely bloody difficult. Of course Ron was happy it was done and over with, but he wasn't quite relieved enough to be laughing about it all. Especially not when they still had more to go. And especially not when, even though several minutes had passed now, he still wasn't quite able to shake the images from the locket from his head, as false as they'd been.

At the sight of his friend, he lowered both his wand and the sword, shoulders slumping slightly with relief. At least he wasn't alone like he'd thought a second ago.

"What happened?" Ron asked, "Do you reckon it was a portkey, then?" It seemed par for the course at least. It was just one bloody thing after another, wasn't it? Destroy a Horcrux, have to find your way back from God only knew where.

He paused then. Something didn't seem quite right. First of all, Harry seemed to have changed clothes, and Ron couldn't think of any reason he might've done that. Even with as much as they'd been hiding since they'd gone off looking for Horcruxes, randomly changing clothes hadn't ever been something they'd put into practice. He opened his mouth to ask about it, and why Harry looked so surprised to see him all of a sudden when Hermione walked up and the words caught in his throat instead.

It'd be putting it lightly to say that he was sorry for all that he'd said weeks before. He wanted to take it all back, to say that he hadn't meant any of what he'd said-- to either of them-- but instead, he tried for bit of a hopeful smile. Mostly he was hoping that destroying the locket would mean neither of them were still angry with him.

"Hi."

[seek_to_end]

It was the smile that did it. Harry's worries about how to explain this to Ron, about how to take care of him after what had just happened, about what to bloody do melted away at the sight of that smile.

His two best friends, safe and sound. Far away from the people they loved and the war they hated, but safe and whole and with him. With Harry.

It wouldn't make any sense at all to Ron, but Harry's mind didn't have room to think about Ron's perceptions, as it was buzzing too much with a fragile, fuzzy kind of hopefulness. He didn't dare dream that everything would be alright now, that they wouldn't have any problems or that the next hour or so might not result in a shouting match or two. But that didn't matter.

A smile broke onto his face, broad enough that his cheeks hurt instantly in the cold, and Harry dashed forward to gather up his mate in a hug. He didn't care just then if it wasn't what blokes did, if it wasn't really what they did. This was a different set of circumstances entirely.

"Ron! You're here!" he shouted, stating the obvious but with pure joy.

[honestlyrubbish]

What broke Hermione first out of her reverie was the way Harry suddenly broke out into a run right beside her; startled, she fell back a couple of paces first rather than rushing aside, as though making away for a gale or some other type of force that would be dangerous if stopped. The shout only made her jump again, after which she immediately sighed with exasperation, closing her eyes to settle the sudden thud of her heart before she slowly looked up once more. It didn't take long for her thoughts to swirl about, to curse herself for have dreamt this moment countless times but still not being sure how to approach it at all. Then again, she hadn't thought that Ron would turn up from a time earlier than herself, from an instant in time that Hermione had reacted poorly to on her part.

Was she supposed to do that again, she asked herself, stepping closer and closer to Ron with her brow furrowed, trying to hide the way her hands trembled at her sides. After all, Ron needed to learn a lesson. Or did he? Was what Hermione had been so furious at Ron for, the fact that he'd abandoned his two best friends and left them to suffer through so much without his aid, that selfishness, that lack of foresight... but maybe that was it. Maybe it wasn't that Ron didn't care for his friends enough (and a part of her asked how she could even doubt that in the first place), but just that temper of his, fueled by the Horcrux.

So she came to a stop, a few paces away from the boys, just staring at Ron, a part of her still so wary of dreams and illusions.

"You're late," she finally said, voice quiet and halting.

[sixthhandlion]

Ron returned his best friend's embrace, though his brow furrowed with confusion. They'd been through this already, hadn't they? Though, there'd been the weight of needing to destroy the Horcrux weighing them down before, he supposed. Still, he couldn't help but feel more than a little relieved, the ball of nerves in his chest loosening ever so slightly now.

"Yeah," Ron said, releasing Harry, then wincing a bit as the cold air hit him again. There was a chance though, that it was more than that. That the way Hermione's voice was so quiet and just sort of off had sent a chill through him. It wasn't that he'd expected to be welcomed back with open arms, especially not after what he'd said and done, but somehow, the reality of all this was more difficult than what Ron had imagined when he'd pulled Harry out of the water not long before.

"Sorry." Ron knew it was a piss-poor thing to say after everything, but he figured it was a good place to start.

[seek_to_end]

"You couldn't help it," Harry said forgivingly. Already it seemed he was playing peacemaker between his two best friends. It was a role that he was used to and the elation he felt helped ease the burden of the job as it landed on his shoulders, but he was never keen to play this game. They were in a precarious enough position as it was, in a place without magic and where keeping optimistic was a means of survival, not just a good character trait. Dragging themselves down with petty arguments would make this place a living hell, maybe just as much of one as those desolate places they had journeyed through, wasting time and achieving nothing in the search for the horcruxes. Harry wouldn't let his friends, or himself, falter again as they had before.

Besides, this was something Hermione had already lived through, accepted and forgave (at least mostly, Harry thought) and Harry knew exactly how badly Ron felt about abandoning them. He didn't need any cold treatment from Hermione to solidify that.

Pulling away from Ron, Harry glanced back at Hermione, giving her a warning look. "Not this time, he couldn't," he said to her, praying that she would take the hint. They had enough to go through.

[honestlyrubbish]

"I know, Harry," Hermione retorted immediately, giving Harry a look that was quick, but not sharp. Begging him to understand in a way that often only Harry could, out of all of those Hermione knew, that she couldn't always let her heart follow reason even if her mind was able to sift through circumstance and assign blame where it rightfully lay. It was almost like begging his permission to just break free the dams that she'd held up so carefully over the past month, the tendency she had to see things more realistically (and even then, whether or not that was the word for it was up for debate) and the difficulty she sometimes had clinging onto hope. Harry had been the object of it for so long, but for an island like the one they stood on, for an island where Harry was content to remain, how was she to have known that she would ever see Ron again? "I know that, but I'm supposed to be..."

Quickly, she whirled around to face Ron, biting her lower lip to stave off the burning at the corners of her eyes as she drew up to him and pushed with her hands, hastily, ineffectually given the way that all strength seemed to have sapped out of her body already by then. "I'm supposed to be mad at you," she insisted, voice raising in pitch as a fist dropped on his shoulder. "And you were meant to hear all that we've gone through so you know that you can never leave like that again, Ronald Weasley. And don't you know how much we worried, and-"

As soon as her temper had flared, it subsided, changing into a different type of desperation as she grabbed Ron in a fierce hug, brow still knit as her forehead pressed against the side of his neck. We're all together again, she thought, only the words which came tumbling from her lips didn't precisely match.

"I'm supposed to be mad at you," she said again, breath catching in a sob.

[sixthhandlion]

At Harry's words, Ron's brow furrowed. No, he hadn't been able to help not coming back as soon as he'd left because of the gang of Snatchers he'd run into, but he hadn't gotten around to telling either of them about that yet. But before Ron could ask Harry how he'd known, he was being assaulted.

"Ow!" Ron shouted when Hermione shoved him, and took a step backwards. Truthfully, it didn't really hurt, and he'd been expecting it, but maybe if she thought it'd hurt, he'd get off easier. Maybe this time she wouldn't set birds after him, at least. Still, he had been prepared to listen to Hermione lecture him about having left the two of them, about being so bloody selfish when there were more important things going on, and the hopeful smile slipped from his face when she started in on it.

However, the one thing Ron hadn't been prepared for was Hermione hugging him. He hugged back just as fiercely, held her tightly, only barely remembering to keep his grip on both the sword and on his wand. That bit of nerves that his body seemed to be hanging onto seemed to finally wash away, and for the moment, he simply let himself be glad that he'd finally found them again. They still had Horcruxes to destroy and none of them had any bloody idea where to start when it came to that, but at least they were all together.

"Wait a minute. Why aren't you mad at me?" Ron asked, after he'd finally, albeit a bit reluctantly, released Hermione. He turned to Harry. "Not that I'm exactly complaining, but... why aren't either of you angry with me? What's going on?" Neither of his friends seemed all that concerned about the fact that they were suddenly someplace else.

[seek_to_end]

Whatever tension that was left in Harry relaxed when Hermione hugged Ron. He didn't know exactly how this would go, but he knew how it had, and that comforted him somehow. Knowing that, regardless of the circumstances, his friends would still find their way back to each other made him feel better than he had this entire year. There was still a lot of ground to cover, but Harry couldn't be bothered with worrying about it just then.

"It's.. hard to explain," he started, looking at Ron seriously, the relieved smile still clinging to his face. "But it's-- We've been transported to this island. Through magic, we think. And there's no way off. But it's okay because Bill's here and Sirius and Lupin and Luna. And it makes no sense at all but... we've been here for about a month and time's all funny. The point is, we've been waiting for you to show up." He snuck a glance at Hermione, having just spoken for her there without her permission. But he felt it was true and so it must be. They both missed Ron dearly, even if they avoided mentioning it too much. "We've both lived through you coming back, with the sword and the locket and everything, so we've been angry with you. I think we're done with that now."

[honestlyrubbish]

As soon as Ron's grip on her had released, Hermione's gaze began to settle on the ground again, keeping oddly focused on Ron's shoes and the amount of wear that the pair had clearly seen as of late. She took a step back, shuffled so that the three of them were equidistant again, allowing them to talk to one another as freely as they always had in the past years, each contributing an entirely different view to the whole. Although at the same time, Hermione had to admit that it was proving hard to put words to the emotions swirling around her just then, the slight knot in her stomach that told her this place wasn't okay for simply bringing about all of these people they cared for. Their place, their proper place, was back in the wizarding world where, even if the war was to end, there was still a lot to be done to pick the community up after the past few years. Ron being there didn't make it all better.

It did make it a great deal more bearable, however.

Taking a deep breath and thinking better of arguing against Harry's words, although her eyes rose just in time to meet his gaze, Hermione turned to face Ron, not quite able to keep constant eye contact with him while she worked through her own explanation. "Ron, we're currently on an island called... Tabula Rasa. The blank slate. So named because there appears to be no means of access that anyone has discovered yet to our homes as we knew them. In other words, people don't leave by choice, or if they do then they never seem to come back with that knowledge intact to inform the rest of us. People do disappear though, and frequently, at seemingly random intervals. The longest that anyone's been on the island is slightly over five years. Magic of many sorts seems to be suppressed here, including our own, but I don't think it's eliminated entirely, as this island also displays its own brand of magic at times. Food stores are replenished, there's a bookshelf with ever-changing contents, a clothing box you literally cannot dig your way to the bottom of, snow on what is otherwise a tropical island that lasts approximately a month before it melts suddenly away, and dinosaurs live just a few miles away from main camp. People seem to arrive from all sorts of worlds and times, even fictional works. Sirius and Remus in particular are from their own Hogwarts years."

After a pause and a thoughtful furrow of her brow, Hermione added. "Draco Malfoy is here as well."

[sixthhandlion]

It was a lot to take in: the bit that Harry had said about time, the fact that the two of them had somehow already held a conversation with him about his having destroyed the locket. Ron had half a mind to ask if they'd been using a time-turner like the two of them had during their third year. Though, if that were teh case, they probably wouldn't have had to wait on him, would they? He didn't really know how all that had worked anyway.

After years of knowing Hermione, Ron was just about used to the way she approached things. One simple question-- which Harry had done a pretty good job of answering, as far as Ron was concerned-- turned into a long and complicated explanation that Ron was barely able to follow. While she talked, he wasn't quite sure just where to start asking questions. That was, until she paused and Ron found himself able to zero in on one important detail.

"Malfoy? What hell d'you bring him here for?" Ron asked.

[seek_to_end]

Harry burst into a laugh at the question, unable to help himself or continue to cautiously bottle up the joy that was bubbling up inside his chest. They had needed Ron with them, for moments like these and more, and Harry thought their future on the island looked a lot easier with all of them together again.

"We didn't exactly have a choice," he explained through his amusement. "He showed up before either of us. It's not up to us who appears and who disappears, otherwise you would have shown up a while ago."

[honestlyrubbish]

How very typical that Ron had taken all of Hermione's words and thrown the majority of them over his shoulder, focusing only on that grudge that both of them still held against Draco Malfoy. She couldn't quite call it ridiculous, because Draco had caused a great deal of trouble for all of them, even before the threat of the Dark Lord held close to his throat like a sharpened blade, but it did feel somewhat foolish now after everything. Sighing, Hermione rubbed at her forehead with the back of her thumb, shaking her head almost imperceptibly.

"Or the rest of us would have left to return to you," she said quietly, lips pressing together before she glanced around, arms wrapping tightly around herself so that she could keep in as much warmth as possible. "Perhaps we should head to the hut now; Ron's still dripping wet."

[sixthhandlion]

Ron had been cold for so long now, it seemed, that he almost didn't notice that his fingers and ears were red and had gone numb.

"Probably a good idea," Ron said, "I think my fingers might be frozen 'round this thing," Ron said, holding up the sword to show them his hands. Though, to be fair, part of his hand hurting might've been because he'd gotten splinched again last time he'd apparated. He wasn't looking forward to waiting for those fingernails to grow back.